


A Frozen Heart Worth Mining

by tacomuerte



Series: Femslash February 2017 - Chlonette Edition [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/F, Femslash February 2017, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Makeouts and Macarons, minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:38:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9567839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacomuerte/pseuds/tacomuerte
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng has sprained her ankle pretty badly, and she's in the middle of a freak blizzard.That isn't good.Chloé Bourgeois is the only person available to help her when the injury occurs.That's really not good.At least she and Chloé have a healthy supply of macarons and mutual repressed sexual desire to get them through the ordeal.It's important to find a bright side when things look bad.* * *Title from "Frozen Heart" on theFrozensoundtrack.Femslash February 2017 Day 1: Snow





	

When Marinette had volunteered to close up the bakery for the evening so her parents could enjoy a rare night out on a dinner date, she had failed to account for the weather reports. Doubling up on bad decisions, she had decided that since the trip to the bins would only take a minute or two at most, what was the point of going all the way upstairs to get her coat? She was paying for those mistakes now as a minor blizzard pelted her with what she called “ugly snow.” Marinette wouldn’t have minded if the snow consisted of the big, puffy flakes that looked beautiful in pictures, but this was wet, stinging and coming in sideways making it almost impossible to see, making her decision to choose speed over warmth seem even dumber.

Even the alley in which she was currently lugging the day’s trash from the bakery to the bins offered no protection. At least this was the last task for the day. After dropping off the trash, the rest of the evening was hers free and clear, and she planned to take full advantage of it. She had several ideas for design sketches in mind, and if she got some daydreaming in about curling up beside Adrien with a mug of warm cocoa beside a crackling fire, she wasn’t going to complain.

Dropping the bags beside the bins, she reached up and opened the containers. As she turned back to gather the garbage, a snotty, contemptuous laugh jerked her out of both her idle musings about Adrien and her annoyance at the wet slush accumulating around her.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé sneered. “Are you rooting around in the trash for new clothes? I didn’t realize you’d fallen quite this far. I realize you’re poor, but surely even your family can afford basic necessities like a coat.”

Only one person would be dumb enough to seek her out in the middle of this storm just to mock her. Why precisely Chloé was here was a mystery that Marinette really didn’t feel inclined to solve because with every second she was wetter and more miserable.

Twisting her head around as she picked up the first bag and tossed it in the bin, she purposefully eyed Chloé from head to toe. The girl was stylishly dressed in a heavy parka with a fur hood, skinny jeans, and boots that Marinette found regrettably gorgeous. 

“Basic necessities? You would know all about being basic, wouldn’t you, Chloé?” Marinette snapped.

Chloé picked up on the insult and narrowed her eyes, pleasing Marinette. What was the use of an insult if you had to explain it in detail?

“Manual labor suits you, but when you’re done trying and failing to be clever, I want to buy some macarons. After that, you’re welcome to dive back into the trash where you belong,” Chloé retorted.

Marinette rolled her eyes and said, “Bakery’s closed, Chloé.”

This didn’t faze the blonde. “So you’re just going to let the macarons go to waste? Doesn’t every franc count for the destitute?”

Deciding that she might freeze to death if she continued to trade barbs with her classmate, Marinette turned to grab the last bag of trash when she felt her feet slide out from under her. There was a wrenching pain in her left ankle as she landed flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her.

The sharp agony in her ankle caused her to call out in pain. Before she realized what was happening, she was being pulled up with her weight being supported so as to not put any pressure on her injury.

“Marinette, are you okay? Do you need me to take you to a doctor?” Chloé asked.

The brunette thought she might be hallucinating. Had she hit her head? That was the only explanation for the obvious worry in Chloé’s voice. She had literally never heard the blonde sound concerned for anyone’s health and safety other than her own in all the years she had known her.

Deciding it was smarter to let Chloé help than to question her motives, Marinette said through clenched teeth, “Don’t know. Hurts a lot. Door’s right there.”

She pointed indicating the bakery’s back exit. 

Chloé nodded and helped her inside and sat her in a chair before saying, “Okay, do you need me to get you to a doctor?”

Marinette tested the ankle drawing another sharp pain causing her to wince. “No,” she answered. “It hurts but I can wrap it upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” Chloé asked, sounding shaky.

Marinette gave her a disbelieving look. “Thanks for the concern, but you can go.”

Marinette’s snide words seemed to bring Chloé back to her usual self. She looked from side to side as if searching for a response.

“And what about my macarons?” the blonde asked, finally.

“Chloé,” Marinette hissed. “My ankle is killing me. It’s going to be hard enough getting upstairs. I really don’t want to deal with you right now, okay?”

Seeming to ignore Marinette’s words, Chloé looked at the stairs that led to the living area on the second floor.

“There’s no way you can make it up those stairs by yourself, Marinette,” Chloé said, firmly.

“Like you care, Chloé,” Marinette snarled. The pain was draining away any patience she would generally cling to for dear life when forced to interact with the spoiled brat.

Suddenly, Marinette felt herself being jerked up from the chair. The rough treatment caused another wave of pain to wash through her leg. She bit back on a scream only letting out a small grunt to show her discomfort.

“Smartasses don’t deserve sympathy, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé said through gritted teeth, and Marinette decided arguing might not be the wisest course of action right then.

It took her a moment to realize that Chloé was half-carrying her up the stairs. All in all, this whole thing was surreal, and she found herself wishing someone kind like Adrien had found her in the alley, and not Chloé Bourgeois.

Quicker than she thought possible, Chloé had asked her directions and then hauled her all the way to her bedroom where the blonde unceremoniously dumped her on the bed before pulling out her phone.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked as she propped her ankle on a couple of pillows before lying back herself.

“Looking up how to deal with a sprained ankle. What’s it look like I’m doing?” Chloé shrugged off her coat before responding absently by waving her free hand at the wall where Marinette had pinned her posters of Adrien modeling various outfits and saying, “Just stare at your creepy shrine or whatever it is you do in here—and no, I don’t want details—while I see to important things like if your leg should be amputated.”

Marinette snorted. “Amputated? You can’t be serious.”

Chloé’s only response was to cut her eyes at Marinette and shrug. 

“Before you get out your bonesaw, Doctor Bourgeois,” Marinette drawled sarcastically. “I’ve had sprained ankles before. I just need to elevate it and ice it. After the initial swelling goes down, I’ll wrap it.”

“Ice?” Chloé asked. “In this weather?”

“It’s warm in here, Chloé, even if putting something cold on my leg is going to suck, it will keep the swelling down.”

Chloé looked unconvinced. “Do you need me to go outside and get some snow?”

“What? Why?”

“For your leg, Marinette,” Chloé said, exasperated.

“We’re not in in a cave in the wilderness, Chloé,” Marinette said, bewildered. “We have ice packs in the refrigerator.”

“Oh,” Chloé responded as if ice packs in a refrigerator had never occurred to her as a thing one might have. “Where’s your refrigerator then? Down in the bakery?”

Marinette’s eyes went wide. “You don’t have to do that, Chloé. I can get them.”

She started to try and stand up when she was roughly shoved back onto the bed.

“Lay down!” Chloé ordered. “If you try to get up again, I’ll sprain your other ankle.”

Marinette held her hands up in an appeasing gesture. “As you command, Madame. The ice packs are in the kitchen refrigerator one floor down.”

Chloé left Marinette to contemplate just how bizarre this situation was. 

“Chloé Bourgeois,” she said aloud softly. “Of all people, Chloé Bourgeois is nursing me through an injury.”

Moments later, Chloé swept back into Marinette’s room holding all five ice packs her parents owned.

“Um, Chloé,” Marinette said slowly. “I don’t need all of those. One will do.”

“Then why do you own five of these things?”

“I think when Maman bought them, they came in a package of five,” Marinette responded simply.

“Oh,” Chloé said looking at the ice packs unsure of what to do before once again shrugging and dropping four of the packs onto the floor. She started to put the remaining pack on Marinette’s ankle.

“Wait, Chloé!” Marinette exclaimed. “It needs to be wrapped in cloth.” She once again sat up saying, “I’ll grab a shirt out of the laundry—”

“If you try to get up again, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé growled. “I will tie you to that bed!”

Marinette flopped back with a groan. “So the high and mighty Chloé Bourgeois is going to rummage through dirty laundry?”

Ignoring the barb, Chloé asked, “Where do you keep your laundry?”

Marinette pointed to her closet. “Just inside the door there.”

Chloé made her way over as Marinette continued, “You don’t have to do this, Chloé.”

The blonde scoffed, “I’m the mayor’s daughter. I don’t have to do **anything** I don’t want to do.”

Marinette didn’t really have a retort for that, and as she couldn’t really see Chloé without getting up, which Chloé had explicitly threatened her against doing, she just lay there stewing. Why the hell was Chloé doing this? What possible gain was there for her? Was she going to taunt her at school over this? How would that even work?

Her dark questions were interrupted by the return of the girl plaguing her thoughts.

Chloé handed her the now wrapped ice pack. Marinette sat up and held it to her ankle.

“You should lie back,” Chloé said.

“Can’t,” Marinette grunted. It was true the position she sat in was awkward and hurt her ankle, but she didn’t have any options. “The pack won’t stay on my ankle unless I hold it.”

Sighing, Chloé snatched the pack from Marinette, who was mute with surprise as Chloé gently pushed her back into a reclined position before sitting on the bed, putting Marinette’s injured ankle in her lap. The blonde carefully arranged the ice pack on Marinette’s leg and held it there.

Marinette blinked. This was really weird, and she wasn’t the only one that felt that way. She could see Chloé was growing agitated under her gaze.

Finally, the blonde couldn’t seem to take it anymore. “I can’t believe you’re so careless,” she sniped. “It’s obvious your parents aren’t home, and if I hadn’t been there, you might have frozen to death before anyone found you. Going out without a coat like that!”

Chloé was on a roll and Marinette just gaped at her.

“It was irresponsible and reckless,” Chloé continued, her anger building as she went. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive all this time. Sure, you’ve got superpow—”

Chloé stopped abruptly, eyes going wide as she realized what she had just said.

Marinette’s brain had seized up, too, and her eyes were at least as wide as Chloé’s.

For several beats, the two girls stared at each other wordlessly. The only thought that occupied Marinette’s mind was that Chloé knew she was Ladybug. How long she had known and why she had never said anything were questions that Marinette both desperately wanted the answer to and just as desperately never wanted the answer to.

“I haven’t told anyone!” Chloé insisted loudly, seeming to read Marinette’s mind. “I’ll never tell anyone. I owe you that much.”

“Uh,” Marinette responded sagely, impressed with her own wit.

Chloé, turning redder by the second, bit out, “It’s not like I’m after anything! I’ve never asked you for anything except to be saved from the crazy monster people and I know those are mostly my fault but I’m not doing this because I’m in lov—”

The blonde’s eyes somehow possibly went wider and Chloé’s face was now scarlet. “Loathing!” she called out. “I’m not doing this because I’m in loathing with you or anything.”

Marinette finally found words. Somehow. 

“What?” she asked.

“What?” Chloé responded as if Marinette was the one saying crazy things.

“You can’t be in loathing with someone. That’s not even a thing, Chloé,” Marinette sputtered, knowing she was blushing at least as hard as Chloé.

“I’m going to gently put your ankle down, Marinette,” Chloé said evenly. “And then I’m going to run away. We’ll pretend I was never here, and we can go back to how things were an hour ago.”

She started to rise and Marinette snatched her wrist. “Chloé,” she said. “We need to talk.”

“No,” Chloé insisted, sounding nearly hysterical. “No, we don’t. I don’t know anything at all, and you dreamed that I know you’re Ladybug because you’re hallucinating due to excruciating pain.”

“Chloé,” Marinette repeated softly. “We need to talk.”

The blonde seemed to deflate. “I know better than to have a straight girl crush,” she said, sounding sad and hollow. “I do. As disappointed as you are to hear I have a crush on you, I’m even more disappointed to crush on a straight girl.”

“But I’m not straight,” Marinette responded without thinking.

Chloé turned to her and raised a disbelieving, perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

Marinette shrugged. “Well, I’m not. Why are you so sure I’m straight?”

Chloé did not turn, nor lower her immaculate eyebrow. She simply jabbed her thumb in the direction of the poster-filled wall.

Marinette frowned. “Okay, so I have a crush,” she grumbled. “That doesn’t mean I’m only into guys, and you have to admit he’s gorgeous.”

“And kind and sweet and very, very good,” Chloé agreed. “All the things I’m not.”

She looked so heartbroken that Marinette was at a loss for words.

“Can we please just forget all this?” Chloé asked.

“No,” Marinette said, firmly. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but I also don’t like that you seem ashamed.”

“I should be out and proud, huh?” Chloé asked with a dark chuckle.

“When aren’t you proud?” Marinette said with a hint of a smile.

Chloé just shrugged. 

“Would you like those macarons, Chloé?” Marinette asked. Maybe if she bribed her with food, Chloé would open up. It didn’t sit right with her that Chloé was acting so skittish. In her head, Marinette always thought of Chloé as proud and fierce, even if she was also cruel.

The blonde blinked at her. “What?”

Okay, it hadn’t been a very logical idea, but desperate times and all that. Besides, her ankle was killing her, making it hard to think straight.

“I’m hungry, and you’ve threatened me with physical harm every time I try to get up,” Marinette said, still hoping to draw Chloé into discussing this. “Feel free to raid the macarons downstairs if you like, but would you mind bringing me up a few?”

Chloé nodded and left, giving them both time to compose themselves and their thoughts.

Marinette was frankly surprised that worked. So… Chloé not only knew she was Ladybug, but was also into her. She wouldn’t have been astonished to find out that Chloé had a thing for Ladybug, but she would have bet everything on that crush dissipating the moment Chloé found out her darling heroine was secretly Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She could admit she was curious why that hadn’t happened whenever Chloé had figured out the truth of her identity.

Soon, Chloé returned with a pile of macarons wrapped in napkins.

“I wasn’t sure where the plates are kept,” the blonde explained. She seemed very subdued and it was starting to freak Marinette out. Being yelled at or sneered at was preferable to this.

Marinette shifted and tried not to grimace, and patted a spot on the bed beside her as she made room.

Chloé sat the macarons down where Marinette patted and went to resume her position holding Marinette’s leg and the ice pack.

“It’s okay, Chloé,” Marinette said. “I have to rotate between having the ice on and off.”

At Chloé’s dubious look, she clarified. “I promise I’m not lying. Come sit beside me okay?”

There was a moment of hesitation, but Chloé finally sat beside her. The blonde picked up a raspberry macaron and nibbled at it saying, “This is very good. Your papa is an excellent pastry chef.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you,” she said as she picked up an almond macaron for herself. 

For a few minutes, the two ate macarons and just… cohabitated. It was nice in a way. It was not anything Marinette had ever expected, but it was nice.

“How long have you known?” Marinette asked, smiling.

Sighing, Chloé answered, “Since the first time you saved me.”

“How?”

“Your eyes. I’ve never seen anyone else with eyes that shade of blue. I’d recognize your eyes anywhere, so when you caught me that first time…” Chloé trailed off.

Marinette’s smile turned to a teasing grin. “So you like my eyes?”

“Please don’t mock me, Marinette,” Chloé said, heat rising in her voice. “Not about this, okay?”

It was Marinette’s turn to shrug. “I’m not mocking you. I’m flattered actually.”

“You’re… flattered?”

The brunette nodded. “Mm-hm,” she said. “You’re… well, you’re really beautiful, so yeah, it’s flattering. I mean… you’re also a… um…”

“Bitch?” Chloé helpfully supplied, mouth twisted into a sarcastic smirk.

“More like some deity distilled the essence of ten bitches and then made you from it.”

Chloé laughed. “You’re also funny and smart. I know you don’t think I notice, but I do. I like how funny you are, so it’s not just your eyes.”

“Thanks,” Marinette said, embarrassed.

“Adrien’s going to be a lucky guy,” Chloé supplied, looking at the posters again.

Marinette grunted. “I’ve had a crush on him for years. I think he would have noticed by now if he was at all interested in me, so probably not going to happen.”

“Just giving up then? Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Marinette snarked. “Now you sound like Alya.”

At Chloé’s indignant expression, she offered her a salted caramel macaron as a peace offering.

After the blonde accepted the macaron, Marinette continued, “I don’t know. It’s not always easy going up to someone and saying you’ve crushed on them for years.”

“Yeah,” Chloé agreed sarcastically. “I wouldn’t know how that is at all.”

“Why **didn’t** you ever say something?” Marinette asked. “Seriously, why not?”

“Like you said, it’s hard sometimes. It’s not like we were on good terms before I figured out that you make my stomach do flip-flops,” Chloé said as she picked up another macaron.

Marinette coughed. She was still weirded out at the general concept of Chloé liking her that way… or any way really… and adding actual compliments to the mix was extremely disconcerting.

“So,” Marinette said, hoping to cover her unease. “Did you like me first or Ladybug?”

“You’re the same person, Marinette,” Chloé deadpanned.

Marinette shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

Chloé sighed and rolled her eyes. “You. There was this one day… It was a nice summer afternoon and the entire class was outside for lunch or maybe just to get fresh air. It’s been a while, so I don’t remember well, but you were sketching and you showed whatever it was you had drawn to Césaire, and you were smiling, and it was just so… pure…

“I thought to myself, ‘I want to fuck her.’”

Marinette interrupted by almost choking to death on her macaron. After a solid two minutes of coughing, she had recovered well enough to just sit there with tears in her eyes.

“Well, okay,” she said not quite sure how else to respond.

Chloé shrugged and smirked, “You wanted to know.”

Marinette considered that for a moment and agreed. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s sort of weird, but it’s definitely good for the ego.”

“Even if I’m a bitch?”

“You’re a really hot bitch,” Marinette clarified. “No one has **ever** said you’re ugly or plain or just pretty, and you know it.”

She emphasized her point by popping a chocolate macaron into her mouth, hoping that Chloé didn’t try to kill her this time.

Chloé had turned a pretty shade of pink almost matching the raspberry macaron she had picked up. That was the second raspberry one she had claimed. Marinette made a mental note of that and then wondered why she was noting it. Her stomach dropped as she realized she was considering what might happen after this and knowing what kind of desserts Chloé liked might factor into that.

Chloé cleared her throat and said, “Thank you. It’s flattering of you to say that.”

Marinette’s phone buzzed. She saw it was her maman and picked up, motioning for Chloé to hold that thought.

“Maman, is everything okay?” she asked.

It turned out not exactly. The storm had worsened, which Marinette easily confirmed by glancing out the window, and she wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t noticed considering the circumstances.

“Okay, Maman,” she said as she hung up. Then she looked to Chloé and filled her in. “The blizzard is worse than predicted. My parents are staying with a friend who lives near the restaurant they were at. I don’t think you’ll be able to get home, but you’re welcome to stay here.”

Chloé frowned.

“Also,” Marinette continued. “Why were you out in this? Who sees a blizzard and thinks ‘Time for macarons?’”

The blonde let out a small hmph and pouted.

Marinette saw the pout and felt a hunger that no macaron was going to satisfy. Was it rational? No. Would she regret it? Probably.

But she intended to find out one way or the other.

Chloé interrupted her increasingly indecent line of thought by saying, “For your information, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I intended to wait out the storm with macarons and trashy reality tv.”

Marinette giggled before a puzzled look settled on her face. “Why do you almost always refer to me by my full name?”

Chloé shrugged. “I think it’s a pretty name, and I like saying it.”

“Huh,” Marinette said, surprised. “I thought it might be because of the Chinese part.”

Angry shock was etched into Chloé’s face. “Jesus, Marinette!” she exclaimed. “I’m a spoiled, mean bitch, sure, but I’m not a fucking racist!”

Marinette grabbed her wrist again and noted that she liked the feel of Chloé’s wrist in her hand, saying “Woah, hold up! I’m sorry, okay?”

Chloé sat down, but she was definitely still angry, refusing to look at Marinette, not that the brunette blamed her.

“That was horrible of me, Chloé,” she said. “I’m really sorry. Here, have a peace offering, okay?”

She held up the last raspberry macaron for the blonde. 

Chloé stared at her with narrowed eyes before relaxing. “Okay, you’re forgiven, but don’t ever accuse me of being a racist again.”

Marinette nodded, and when Chloé reached for the macaron, something came over Marinette and she took Chloé’s hand in her free hand, gently pushed it down.

“Allow me,” Marinette said. “Consider it penance.”

“Y-you want to feed me?”

Marinette nodded. She was feeling bold, but words were hard when your heart started hammering its way up into your throat.

“But you hate me,” Chloé whispered, eyes locked onto Marinette’s. Chloé’s eyes were a startlingly clear blue. They were fascinating somehow.

“Maybe,” Marinette answered. “And maybe I don’t see why we have to keep hating each other.”

“Oh,” Chloé replied, frozen in place.

“Are you going to eat the macaron or not, Chloé? My arm is going to eventually get tired,” Marinette said lightly.

She noticed Chloé’s breathing was shallow, which was all kinds of flattering to Marinette. The blonde leaned closer to the macaron and closed her eyes, slowly taking a bite out of it.

Marinette’s mouth watered, and it wasn’t for the macaron. She had no idea when Chloé had transformed into someone sexy to Marinette but she sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

Chloé leaned back and opened her eyes, chewing and watching Marinette.

The brunette brought the remaining half of the macaron to her mouth and popped it in her mouth before licking the little bit of jam that escaped off her fingers.

The blonde let out a small, nervous giggle that surprised both of them.

“I have no idea what’s going on here,” Chloé stated.

“To be honest I’m more or less winging it,” Marinette admitted.

“Well, you’re doing a really good job if this is you improvising,” Chloé assured her.

Leaning forward and pulling Chloé in, Marinette’s lips captured Chloé’s and oh my god why hadn’t she ever thought of kissing the blonde to shut her up before? Because this was the best strategy of all time.

After some undetermined amount of time, they broke away. Marinette was simultaneously glad because she felt giddy enough to pass out—although she realized she had completely forgotten about the pain in her ankle—and disappointed because making out with a hot blonde was kind of awesome in many, many ways.

“Two things,” Chloé said before Marinette surged forward to kiss her again.

Marinette wasn’t interested in whatever two things Chloé wanted to say because that might lead from kissing to not-kissing, and at that particular moment in time, Marinette had no interest in the not-kissing part of the night.

In order to prolong the moment, Marinette introduced some light groping into the equation and was thrilled when Chloé got with the program. She had nice hands and she knew what to do with them. Again, it was awesome.

But eventually, Chloé pulled back again. She stroked Marinette’s hair and said, “Rude.”

Marinette chuckled, but decided she shouldn’t push her luck or the kissing might not come back. Marinette very much wanted the kissing to come back and if listening to a list of demands hurried the process along, she was all ears.

“Two things,” Chloé repeated. “One, I need to know if this is just something that’s happening tonight and then we’re going to be at each other’s throats when we’re at school, or do you want something out of this?”

“Do you want something out of this, Chloé?” Marinette asked earnestly.

“I’ve literally wanted you for years, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she answered.

Marinette nodded. “I’m open to trying this if you are, but can you be less mean at school? Not just to me, either.”

Chloé frowned. “I can promise that I’ll try, but I don’t think I can promise I’ll be perfect.”

“Deal,” Marinette said, leaning forward to resume the kissing. She thought again she might regret this, but there were far more important matters to deal with right now, like getting back to the kissing.

Chloé’s smirk was unfairly seductive as she put a finger to Marinette’s mouth and held her in place just inches away from Chloé’s lips where Marinette desperately wanted to be.

“Two,” Chloé said. “I don’t want to make out with a dozen pictures of Adrien staring at me. Yes, he’s hot and I would fuck him in a heartbeat, but right now I want you focused on me and just me.”

“Fair,” Marinette replied because that meant the kissing was once again imminent. “We can fight over him later if you want.” She lifted a blanket and handed it to Chloé. “There are thumbtacks on the desk,” she said. “This isn’t any of his business anyway.”

The blonde hummed her agreement and said, “We don’t have to fight, Marinette. We can always share.”

“I don’t want think about sharing you right now, Chloé,” Marinette said honestly.

Chloé looked at her with stark, naked hunger in her gaze. She hurriedly pinned the blanket up over the posters and then gently lowered herself onto Marinette taking surprising care not to disturb the brunette’s ankle before running her fingers through Marinette’s hair as they got back to the purpose of this meeting.

Maybe an hour or so later as the two held each other, Marinette asked, “What should we do about dinner?”

Chloé grunted. “I have no idea how to cook.”

“Really?”

“I’ve never boiled water,” the blonde said frankly. “I don’t suppose we can get delivery?”

Marinette looked out the window. “The storm’s even worse than before, so no. Not likely.” She turned her eyes to Chloé and smirked, “But that’s okay, I don’t mind eating out.”

It was now Chloé’s turn to choke and turn red. “Did you just—”

Marinette smiled. “It was meant to be funny, Chloé! I think we should go on several dates and see how we’re doing before we think about going that far.”

Chloé nodded agreement.

Laughing, Marinette added, “I’m a traditional kind of girl that way.”

The laugh that drew from Chloé was genuine and free and music to Marinette’s ears. “Sure you are,” the blonde said. “Sure you are.”

Several more minutes of kissing followed.

“Mm-hm,” Marinette said after they took a break from kissing for some much needed cuddling. “Very traditional. I’ll cook you dinner tonight. Show you how traditional I am.”

“Not on that ankle you aren’t, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé said sternly.

“Yes, Doctor Bourgeois,” Marinette said, rolling her eyes.

“I prefer ‘Nurse Chloé,’” the blonde countered.

Marinette very solemnly replied, “I’m so okay with that.”

“You like nurses?” 

Chloé’s smirk was dangerous. It was guaranteed to get Marinette in trouble in the future.

“More okay with them every second that passes,” Marinette said. 

“Maybe I can find an appropriate outfit as I work to bring you back to full health,” Chloe mused.

Marinette’s mouth went dry. She could only nod vigorously, suddenly understanding the appeal of that particular kink for the first time.

“Now back to the kissing,” Marinette said, feeling ready to explode at any second if she didn’t find an outlet for what she was feeling.

Chuckling, Chloé complied.

“I have no idea,” Marinette said between nibbles on Chloé’s ear. “How we’re going to explain this at school. Not sure I care, but…” She trailed off as Chloé’s neck was far too inviting for her to continue speaking.

Chloé laughed, and Marinette discovered she really liked Chloé laughing while she kissed her neck.

“Césaire is going to lose her damn mind,” Chloé said.

“Mm-hm,” Marinette agreed. “She’s going to be so mad at me.”

“Let me start making it up to you right now then,” Chloé said, with an evil look in her eyes.

“Yes, please,” Marinette whispered reverently.

With that, Chloé set to work.

Afterwards, Marinette had to admit she felt very well compensated for her future troubles.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome as I (probably foolishly) decide to participate in Femslash February 2017. It's not like I'm writing any long fictions or anything.
> 
> This fiction was supposed to be between 500 and 1000 words. That was the goal I set for myself, and it ended up at 5000+ words. In that regard, I've definitely failed. I'm pretty happy with the result, though, and I hope you are, too!
> 
> This took about two hours and it's lightly edited since my beta reader, asimaiyat, suffers enough as it is with my other fictions.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> p.s.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the thematic titles as this series continues. :D
> 
> p.p.s.
> 
> Yes, that's a Wicked reference! ;)


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